


The Other Side of the Door

by fractalficlets (fractalgeometry)



Series: Hugtober 2020 [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Comfort, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Other, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26795518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalficlets
Summary: The world didn't end. The world didn't end, and on the surface everything looks the same as always, and Crowley needs a hug.Aziraphale needs a hug too.Luckily, they find the obvious answer to this problem.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Hugtober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952887
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	The Other Side of the Door

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my Hugtober series! This series is a set of unrelated, hug-centric ficlets I'm writing throughout October. 
> 
> I like this one quite a lot, and I'm so far enjoying the excuse to write many hugs. I hope you all enjoy and I look forward to any thoughts you might have.

The world nearly ends, and they don’t touch. 

Oh, they did once, on the bench that afternoon, switching back into their regular corporations. They touched, clasped hands for that handful of seconds. Crowley hadn’t wanted to let go. He thought maybe Aziraphale hadn’t either.

They did, though. They let go, went to the Ritz, ate and drank and talked, and it was all normal. Better than normal. Aziraphale’s smiles were freer. Crowley only scanned the room for danger fifteen or twenty times, instead of every minute or two. 

They walked in the park, after. They walked until dusk fell, and they turned, by unspoken agreement, toward the car.

They didn’t touch.

They drove to the bookshop. They made eye contact as they pulled up.

They held it, for a long, silent moment.

Aziraphale invited him inside.

Out of the car, now, up to the door. Aziraphale fumbling with a key — it was unfairly adorable, that key, given how he didn’t truly need it — Crowley hanging back, just out of reach, out of the way. Inside, the lights coming up as they entered, first angel, then demon.

The door clicked shut.

Crowley’s hand reached out, nearly without his conscious thought, catching Aziraphale’s where it hung by his side.

Aziraphale’s fingers moved, intertwining with Crowley’s, squeezing like Crowley had been wanting to. He smiled.

Crowley took a step forward, tugging on their joined hands, bringing them closer still. Aziraphale’s smile didn’t drop, he didn’t resist the pull, didn’t do anything to suggest he wanted Crowley to back off.

And still, Crowley couldn’t take the last step. The one that would bring them close enough to touch fully, hold and reassure.

Close enough to hug.

Then  _ Aziraphale _ pulled, free hand coming up to catch Crowley as he nearly toppled forward, steadying him, catching him, pulling him close, and Crowley couldn’t resist that;  _ wouldn’t _ resist it, not anymore. He had the forethought to miracle his sunglasses off, somewhere deeper into the bookshop where he could find them later, before burying his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Their hands slipped apart, Aziraphale’s migrating to Crowley’s lower back, Crowley’s ending up somewhere on the back of Aziraphale’s shoulders, squeezing, holding, feeling the firm reality of each other’s existence like a tether keeping them on Earth.

Their Earth, now. Their place. Their life.

Their freedom.


End file.
